Enchanter
by vain-flower
Summary: HarryDraco Mild AU Not at all like those overdone Veela fics. Rated M for the lime, nothing graphic. Totally revised, Chapter 8 now up. R
1. Enchanter

AU, taking place in Harry's 5th or 6th year. Harry/Draco. Kinda like the overdone Veela fics, but with an Enchanter twist. Just read it and review it, please.

Oh, and I don't own a bit of it, I just wish I owned Draco.

* * *

"Ow!" Draco hissed.

The house elf said nothing as it continued to rub astringent smelling balm over the aching slits beside his shoulder blades. It stung and bubbled, eating at the already present throb where they threatened to burst through.

Draco quieted, however, the moment his father stepped though the door.

The house elf skittered away, terrified, job only half done.

Lucius Malfoy did not spare it a glance. "How are they?"

"They're fine. . . father," Draco murmured through clenched teeth.

"I think," said Lucius conversationally, "that they have taken far too long already," he finished, stepping into the room and shutting the door firmly behind him.

Draco flinched at the noise.

"Perhaps I'll just… hurry them up a bit."

Lucius's fingers stroked along the carved hilt of a long, sharp dagger lying like a falsely docile feline upon the bedside table. His fingers curled lovingly around the familiar ivory and he went to sit behind his son.

Draco braced himself, gripping the armrests and locking his jaw so hard it hurt, but he was still far from prepared.

He drew in a long, shuddering breath and his father placed a hand upon his back. A silent sob of anticipation wracked him as the flat side of the blade glided across his skin. Without warning, the point was dug into the slit on his right shoulder blade.

Tears welled and spilled over the closed lids of the slate gray eyes, but no sound escaped the tightly pursed lips of Draco Malfoy.

The blond boy could feel the knife searching diligently, till it brushed against something inside, causing white flashes of light to press against the backs of his eyelids. The pain was exquisite, searing, and then gone.

Something wet and sticky lay against his back, an extension of himself.

So caught up in slowing his breathing, Draco did not notice the knife until it was digging into the other slit. The search this time was brief, the pain no less agonizing, but not prolonged. Finally, Draco could relax.

He collapsed forward onto the desk. He attempted to move the muscled extensions that lay damp against his back, but they screamed from abuse and effort, and Draco gave up and into unconsciousness.

Draco rotated his shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to ignore how cramped they were. His mother stroked his back comfortingly, fingers skipping softly over the bindings.

"Find out who it is soon, and write us," she said gently, tucking a few stray hairs behind his ear.

Draco nodded, kissed his mother on the cheek, and boarded the train without a backwards glance. He hurried to get a Prefects' compartment to himself, and locked the door behind him. He peeled of his leather duster and black T-shirt, and then tenderly removed the bindings that lashed them down. He sighed as they stretched, then brought one forward to examine it. It was small still, but soft and downy. White with silver undersides, they nearly matched his hair. He lounged about on one of the benches, content to stretch after the long ride in the ministry car.

He pulled out a school book, not really paying attention to which it was and started idly flipping through it, taking long breaks to trail the tips of his wings against the pages or examine more closely the silky soft feel of them.

A harsh rap at the compartment door jerked him out of his admiration. "Who the hell is it?" he snapped.

A sarcastic voice answered him. "Your loving godfather and potions professor."

"Shit!" Draco opened the door to admit Snape.

The corners of Snape's lips twitched, but he did not actually smile. "Your wings are growing nicely," he commented.

Draco frowned. "They're still too small."

Snape shook his head, smirking. "Don't worry about them. Even if you don't find her, your wings should be fully grown by the end of the school year."

Draco sighed, folding one silvery wing in front of him to preen it. "I look ridiculous," he said sulkily.

"You will say no such thing," Snape said firmly.

Draco scowled. "I hate it. I hate these!" he hissed vehemently. "Ever since I turned sixteen, it's all been turned inside out!"

"Things will right themselves," Snape said soothingly. "And you needn't worry about anyone else because I've arranged separate rooms for you."

Draco smiled humorlessly. That's what he had been afraid of, all the Slytherins, and even the rest of the school seeing him as some beast unfit to live with.

"It is unworthy of you to think it of them, or of yourself," Snape said.

Draco smirked. More proof Snape could read minds.

His godfather gave him a small, rare smile. "We're nearly there. Let me assist you with your bindings."

Draco sighed and handed Snape the silk wrappings. "I wish they had never come out. All they are is an inconvenience." He lifted his arms for Snape to adjust the bindings more easily.

"An Icarri is born only every one hundred years—"

"One from each of the two surviving Icarri bloodlines. Unfortunately, the other line died out, so there's no one left to repopulate the ancient Icarri homeland. I know."

"It won't be as bad as you seem to think it will be. It's not like it's been kept secret, either, so it won't come as a shock to anyone. You'll probably be even more famous than Mr. Potter," Snape said maliciously.

"Dumbledore's Golden Boy? Why do I doubt it?"

"Ow, Ron, don't poke my shoulder. It's sore," Harry grumbled from within another compartment.

"Did you strain a muscle, Harry?" Hermione asked concernedly.

"Uh. . . yeah," said Harry, glad for once for his baggy clothing which hid the weird feathery growths on his shoulder blades from being too obvious. The last thing he wanted was Ron and Hermione to find out about him. He was sure it wasn't normal.

Luna Lovegood entered the compartment. "Don't lie, Harry," she said slowly, blinking at him. "It's so obvious."

"What's obvious?" Ron asked around a mouthful of treacle tart, spraying crumbs all over Luna and Harry.

"That they're wings," she said simply.

"What?" gasped Ron, choking on his treacle tart.

"Ooh, Harry! Let me see!" squealed Ginny.

"But you couldn't be—" started Hermione.

The compartment door slid open and she trailed off. "Couldn't be a what, Mudblood?" Malfoy sneered.

"Sod off," Ron snapped. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny made noises of assent.

But Luna said, "Aren't you an Icarri, too?"

Draco looked taken aback. "What do you mean by 'too'? I'm the only one!"

"Tell that to Harry's wings!"

"What?" Draco snapped. "Let me see!"

"Get off!"

"Come on!"

"Let him be!"

"Impedementa!"

"Dumbledore, there is no getting around it! The boy had wing buds!" Snape was shouting. Harry sat next to Draco and his family, having no clue what was going on. Draco's face was buried in his mother's hair, and Narcissa herself looked severely upset, her mouth a thin line. Lucius was livid, his hand in his robe, presumably gripping his wand. Finally, he spoke.

"I won't have it!" he hissed. Draco began shaking.

Dumbledore frowned, took off his glasses, cleaned them with a bit of robe, and set them back on his long, crooked nose. "Well, if Harry is indeed from the supposedly ended line of Icarri, then I can't see what you can do not to have it."

"No!" shrieked Narcissa. "I will not give my child up to that!"

Harry was confused.

Dumbledore continued. "You have no choice. It is. . . fate, so to say. Though I would not have thought fate would have such a twisted sense of humor."

Lucius stood, looking fit to cast the Cruciartus Curse.

"Mr. Malfoy, please, the bond will be formed whether you approve of it or not."

Harry dimly noted that the look of fury changed from Cruciartus to Avada Kedavra worthy. But Lucius merely turned on his heel, snapped, "Snape," and left. Snape followed in a swish of black robes.

"Narcissa—"

"I won't!" she said, breathing heavily, clutching a trembling Draco to her.

"There is nothing to be done about it, Narcissa," said Dumbledore patiently.

"But. . . him!"

Harry assumed Mrs. Malfoy was talking about him and found himself wondering how well she and his Aunt Petunia would get along. They could probably spend hours discussing how much they hated him, Harry thought, though without much feeling.

"It will be best, I think, to leave this matter to tomorrow. It will all seem much simpler, I'm sure, once we've all had a pleasant rest. I will escort Draco and Harry to their room—"

"What?" Harry gasped, speaking for the first time all evening.

"I'm sure Draco can describe the situation better than I can, if you care to ask him."

Draco's pale fingers spasmed slightly, his nails scraping at the lavender robes his mother wore.

Harry found himself detachedly wondering why everyone seemed to have gone mad.

* * *

Okay, I remember that someone, not a short amount of time ago, mentioned that this chapter was a bit confusing, mostly about Draco and the ordeal he had to go through to get his wings. deep breath Draco's wings would have eventually come out on their own, I do believe I mentioned that he had "slits" on his back, BUT. . . Draco's father is by no means a patient man. So Lucius decided to. . . hurry it up a bit. I suppose their would have been a chance that he could have done some permanent damage to Draco's wing buds with that knife of his, however nothing else was sharp enough to get into Draco's back and forcibly extract them. I suppose magic might have been a better way to go about it, but whatever. Any reason to give Lucius a knife in a story suits me just fine. :) 


	2. Eruption

Wow, you guys. I mean, really, really, really, wow. I have never gotten so many reviews in less than 24 hours. Wow. Wowowowowow. I love you. I really, really love you. I started hyperventilating. Wow. Oh, and I rewrote part of the first chapter, so there's a lot more. Go read it real quick or you'll be lost. Okay,

Jkdsuhi-I guess they will have to fold their wings up behind them to fit through, I wasn't thinking of that when I wrote the story. ;

AntiYou- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it!

Layce74- Danke!

LylaSnape- If you draw a picture, may I have a link to it to post on the story so everyone can go and look at it? I want to draw one where Draco's wings have just come out, and they are soggy and bloody(ew, but it would look cool). I'm so glad you like the story.

MaraWeaves- This story is actually supposed to be somewhat serious, but I have this weird thing where I write humor and irony into all my stories. I'm glad I made you laugh. You should read my Fred And George story where they play pranks on all the teachers. I don't know whether Ron will get jealous or not, but it's a good idea. I'm glad I inspire someone.

Constance Malfoy- I'm somewhat afraid of MPreg. Because I'm not sure how to write it… but, depending on how the story goes, yes, it will contain MPreg. I think it's rather inevitable.

The-Rouge-Thorn- I'm glad you like it!

* * *

Draco was trembling. Harry sat across from him in an overstuffed chair, shirtless; Draco had insisted upon seeing Harry's wing buds. They were small and covered in fine, black down. Draco had to force himself to keep his aching fingers from stroking them. And other parts of Harry, for that matter. The blond boy finally resorted to sitting on his hands. He was shirtless, too, his skin tingling and flushed. How could Harry not be affected?

Harry finally spoke, and Draco shifted uncomfortably at the soft, dulcet tones that made his spine tingle. "What's going on?" Harry was asking.

Draco swallowed. "Po—" Draco stopped. He was Harry now. "Harry, I'm. . . we are. . . Icarri."

Harry stared at him blankly.

"The last members of an all but extinct race of which we have the job of replenishing."

Harry's jaw dropped. "No. . . but. . . no!"

Draco was furious. How dare Harry not feel the all consuming heat that ate at the paler boy, darkening the corners of his vision with lust! Draco schooled his face to blankness and shrugged. "It's not like we have a choice, Harry," murmured Draco, praying his voice didn't sound as ragged to Harry as it did to him.

Harry averted his eyes and changed the subject. "How come your wings are larger?"

"What? Oh!" Draco frowned. "Um, well, mine probably just… came out before yours, giving them more time to grow."

Harry hesitated. "Can I touch them?" the dark haired boy asked, eyes fixed upon Draco's wings.

Draco smiled faintly. Maybe the Golden Boy was affected. "Sure, why not? Maybe it will make them grow faster. Like plants, and carbon dioxide, you know when you breath on them…" Draco realized he was babbling, but couldn't stop himself.

Harry stood slowly, swaying slightly, the look in his eyes unreadable. "Draco, shut up," Harry said, though by the upturned corners of his mouth, it had not been meant to be scathing. Draco shut up.

Then, when Harry showed no signs of moving closer, Draco reached his hand out to grab Harry's and pulled the other boy almost on top of him. Harry blinked surprisedly, not quite sure how he had ended up sprawled in Draco's lap. But, being in such a position that Draco's wings were well in reach, he extended his fingers to brush across them.

Draco howled at the sensation, lights bursting in his brain and all coherent thought leaving him. He clung to Harry like a drowning man, long fingers somehow finding their way to Harry's small wings, wanting unselfishly for the other to know this ecstasy.

Draco felt the unbearable pressure rising up his spine, building until one perfect, still moment when feather and muscle erupted from both boys. Harry and Draco collapsed, spent from the sensations that still wracked them slightly, in a tangle of feathers and limbs.

Draco feebly raised one now full sized wing and draped it over them both, heart and breath finally slowing to a normal pace. He felt strangely light headed.

Harry's fingers were still tangled in the feathers of Draco's wings, though they were still. Harry's breath came in smooth, even puffs of air that ghosted across Draco's chest. After a few soundless moments, he stirred, stretching his fingers and causing throbs of sensation to course through Draco's over sensitive wings.

Not to be outdone, Draco traced the contours of each inky black feather. Harry tensed up, and Draco paused. Harry sat, eyes widening.

Draco found himself wondering when the hell Harry had become such an eyeful. They green eyed boy's hair was tousled even more than usual, his eyes wide behind his glasses, and his lips looked impossibly pink and kissable. Harry untwined his fingers from around Draco's wings and it was all the fair haired boy could do not to cry out from loss.

"I want to go back to Gryffindor Tower," Harry whispered.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "No."

"Why not?" Harry demanded.

"What do you think you Gryffindor friends would say if you came in like that?" Draco said angrily, gesturing to Harry's winged and shirtless form.

"They wouldn't care!" Harry snapped.

Draco smiled coldly. "Then why do you think Dumbledore's making you stay in this tower?"

Harry faltered, but quickly regained his composure. "We're not like you! We're not Slytherins! Hermione and Ron—"

"Ah, yes, the Mudblood and the Weasel. . ."

Smack! Draco brought a pale, long fingered hand to his face, where a florid handprint was blooming. "You will not talk about them like that!" Harry hissed, hand raised to strike again if Draco gave the slightest reason.

Draco sneered. "You didn't seem to mind when you were insulting my fellow housemates."

Harry ignored this. "I hate you and I'm leaving."

Harry stood. Draco followed suit. "Excuse me, Golden Boy, but I don't think so."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I told you," Draco said quietly, "that you are not going anywhere."

"No, what is that you called me?"

Draco blinked. "Golden Boy?"

Harry frowned. "Yes. Why the hell are you calling me that?"

Draco sat back down, and it was Harry this time that copied the other's movements. "It's your nickname, so to speak, among the Slytherins."

Harry looked so dumbstruck, it was almost funny for a moment. But then Harry spoke and there was nothing funny about it at all. "They don't know anything," Harry hissed vehemently. He raised his eyes to meet Draco's. They were such a dark green that they appeared almost black, something furious and fiery lurking in those seemingly bottomless pools. Draco shivered. Harry stood again.

"I'm going," he announced.

When Draco made no move to stop him, Harry left.

The image of those deadened eyes burned before him along with the outline one sees after staring at something too long. Draco looked around and wondered offhandedly if there had ever been a time less enjoyable than this one.

* * *

Wow. Boylove is so hard to write. But I hope you like it. Though it's not as long, I know. The shortest amount of time it has ever taken me to get a second chapter up. And the last chapter was sort of in Harry's point of view, so this one is sort of in Draco's. I don't know if I'll switch like that all the time, since I'm rather used to writing what Harry thinks. 


	3. Explanation

Wow, you guys. This is so great! It's like being pampered. I'm not used to getting many reviews, this is so cool! You guys inspire me to write more, even though I don't know where I'm going with this. To wanderingwolf, BratPrincess-187, cheesejunkiejane, rockchik4evr, KittenBabyGirl, Anarchy-Agent, ciceronian, and rachel, my eternal thanks. hugs everyone who has reviewed

* * *

Harry stalked out of his new tower room, slightly miffed that Draco had not tried to stop him. He raked a hand through his hair and tried to sort out the jumble of hours that came before this moment. 

Draco Malfoy. Of all people. The person he hated most in all of Hogwarts, well, besides Snape. Harry knew there had to be something wrong with that, and he cursed all the gods he had ever heard of for putting him in this position as he stomped down the hall.

Belatedly, he noticed he was still shirtless, and took off for Gryffindor Tower. He wondered what time it was, and if he had missed all of dinner(wow, Harry, always thinking of your stomach, ne…).

He rubbed his wrist where his watch once was, itching to know what time it was. He supposed he ought to get a new one; after all, he had been watchless since his second year, the Dursley's none too keen on purchasing him a new one.

But there was nothing to be done about that now. Harry thought that maybe, when the time came to get a watch, that he would borrow some of Malfoy's money. That was certainly all the blond haired git was good for. Harry wondered what sort of watch he should get. He could probably get one million and one 18karat gold watches encrusted with diamonds and still leave the blond boy with plenty of money. Harry made a face.

Making his way down the corridor, his mind jumped from one subject to another. He passed the Fat Lady, and was nearly half way down the corridor before he realized it. He turned back around and stood in front of her portrait.

She looked at him expectantly.

"Uh…" Harry mumbled.

She swung open. Harry blinked. 'Uh? Uh's the password?'. But he didn't question it, just slipped in. Or attempted to. He had not accounted for his huge black wings. He looked back at them and glared, as if he could laser them off with his eyeballs. He stepped backwards a bit, and folded them carefully behind him before entering again. When he reached the top of the stairs, something quite unexpected happened. Despite of his brave front earlier, he had been secretly terrified that the Gryffindors would think him some sort of freak. But instead of stares and silence, he was met with even more noise than after winning a Quidditch game. Everyone was clamoring to touch them. The girls cooed over him as if he were some sort of baby bird. He smiled a little, relieved, and dashed up as quickly as he could to put on a shirt.

He held one up, in green, wondering how in the bloody hell he was supposed to put it on. He heard footsteps and turned. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were running up the steps to greet him, as they hadn't been able to force their way through the throng in the common room earlier.

"Oooh, Harry!" Ginny squealed.

Hermione went about poking and prodding them, to make sure everything was in order.

Ron smiled and said "Well, I suppose you won't need a broom to play Quidditch now." But Harry thought he heard something akin to jealousy.

"They're not as nice as you think. You can have them; it'll mean I won't have to date Draco."

They all stared at him incredulously and Harry sighed, resigning himself to quite a bit of explaining. When he was finished, Ron made a face, but then smiled at him. "Sorry, mate, but better you than me."

Harry laughed hollowly. "I just hope I can still play Quidditch. I mean, what if wings are forbidden?"

"They're not," said Ron, and Harry believe him because he knew Ron had memorized the entire rules and regulations book the previous year. That improved his mood quite a bit.

"Well, Harry," said Hermione, who seemed to be satisfied that his wings were fine, "I hope you're ready for a lot of responsibility."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "Thanks for reminding me. But how hard can it be? I mean, all I have to do is snog Draco, right?"

Ron looked horrified. "Have you gone mad? 'All you have to do'? I'd call that a lot!"

Ginny giggled.

Hermione glared at the three of them. "Harry, have you forgotten that you have the job of replenishing an entire race?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sorry, 'Mione. I must have missed that part. Honestly, yes, I know. But—"

"But nothing!" Hermione snapped. "Don't you know anything about Icarri?"

Harry opened his mouth. "Other than that they have wings and that you and Draco are both Icarri," Hermione interjected before he could say anything.

Harry shook his head. "Well," said Hermione importantly, "I read about them for a bit of extra credit in Care of Magical Creatures."

"Since when does Hagrid offer extra credit?" asked Ginny.

"Well, I wanted to research some creatures we weren't studying in class, just in case they popped up on the O.W.L.s. I just talked to Hagrid about it, and he said he'd give me some credit for researching Icarri."

"Not like you need it," grumbled Ron.

Hermione gave him a look McGonagall would have been proud of. "Anyway, Harry, they're a very old race, the last clan recorded was around the time Hogwarts was founded. Not a lot is known about them except that the rift between them and wizards was growing. Icarri are supposedly really vain, and would often show themselves to Muggles and do other dangerous things that wizards did not agree with. Finally a war started among them, and all the Icarri save two were killed."

Ginny interrupted. "But what spell would allow their race to continue on?"

Hermione shrugged. "That's not actually known. What is known is that all attempts at rebuilding their culture have been squashed by the various Ministries."

Harry frowned. "Why aren't they stopping it now?"

"The reasons behind the war have been forgotten by most people. The Ministry most likely doesn't see it as a threat now. I guess you'll have to keep it that way, though."

Harry sighed. "Yeah."

Hermione frowned suddenly. "Where's Draco?"

"Oh! I, uh, he's back, in out new room."

Ron spluttered. "You share a room with. . . him?"

Harry turned red. "Well, yeah. I guess. . . it's kinda. . . well…"

"Sick!" said Ron.

Ginny looked thoughtful. "That sounds… really, really hot."

Ron looked absolutely disgusted. "Ginny!" He gasped.

She frowned. "Well. . . it would be. Sorry, Harry, but there's not helping it. I think Hermione would agree with me." Hermione just smiled.

Ron made a face. "Yuck! You guys make me sick!"

Harry laughed, nodding. But his laughter faded. "Uh, Hermione, could you do something for me? I just want to test something."

Hermione smiled and nodded.

Harry turned red. For some reason this seemed like asking her to bathe him. But this was Hermione. "Touch my wings, won't you?"

Hermione seemed taken aback. So did Ron and Ginny. But Hermione did anyway. Harry sighed. It wasn't like it felt bad… it just didn't feel like Draco. He shook his head.

"I should probably get back. . . I just… need a shirt."

Hermione looked concerned, but held up his shirt. "I don't think this is going to work."

Harry stared at her blankly. "Hermione, I am not walking around all the bloody time without a shirt on!"

"Alright, alright," Hermione said. "Hold on."

Hermione held it in front of him and mumbled a few words in Latin. Harry gasped as it sort of. . . mooshed its way onto him and around his wings, giving them plenty of room. "Wow, Hermione. . . .wow."

Hermione smiled. "I'll teach it to you tomorrow, when we get some free time."

Harry nodded. "Well. . . guess I'll be seeing you."

They nodded solemnly, making Harry feel more like they were seeing him to his funeral than anything else, and walked with him to the portrait hole.

Harry stepped into the room where Draco lay curled up on the couch, shivering. Harry glanced at the fireplace. Flames flickered high and warm, and the room didn't feel cold. Harry approached. Draco's head snapped up, and his gray eyes met Harry's green.

"Harry. . ." he whispered.

* * *

Wow. This chapter sucks, but I did it for you guys that reviewed. Also, it needed to be done. Had to get it out of the way and all. Thank you forever, those that reviewed! 

Um, yeah, and I need more suggestions, too. I have no idea where I'm going with this.


	4. Embrace

Mmkay, so here's the next chapter. Some more boy love, but nothing drastic. I'm not going to respond to each reviewer separately, but I will address certain questions! So listen up:

Enchanter is actually the title of the book I got my idea from. It's the second of the Wayfarer Redemption trilogy.

Um, Draco's shoulders weren't actually cut by a knife at first; it was a natural opening that was there for the wings to come out. I hope that makes sense… ;

I think that's it, thank you all who reviewed, I love you so, so, so much!

* * *

Draco was not alone. His mother sat next to him on the plush couch, his father was a shadow among shadows, a study in charcoal(1), all but hidden in a corner that the firelight didn't quite reach. It made Harry glad that he had managed to put a shirt on. He didn't like the idea of being nearly naked in front of the Malfoys.

Harry paused; his fingers itched to close around his wand(2). Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, the firelight falling upon him shyly, as if he didn't belong in the light. His wand was already drawn, though not raised to point at Harry. Not yet, anyway. "Well, Mr. Potter," Lucius said smoothly, "it seems we need to discuss some things."

Harry spared Draco a fleeting glance before he said "Fine".

Lucius sneered slightly, then turned and walked into an adjacent room, not even checking to see whether Harry was following or not. Once they were both in, the door clicked shut on its own. Lucius stood against the wall, twirling his wand over his fingers.

"All right," said Harry, "discuss."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "I won't tolerate it, Potter."

"Won't tolerate what, sir?"

"Your treatment of my son."

Harry snorted. "Is that what this is about? Well, no thank you then. You can just save it."

"I think not, Mr. Potter," Lucius continued on in the smooth tone. "We need to get a few things straight. You will treat Draco with respect at all times. Do you understand that, Potter?"

"Right," said Harry, "the respect he deserves."

Harry fought back a smile at Lucius' look of outrage. The older man pointed his wand at Harry's heart. "Don't get smart with me, boy."

Harry said nothing.

"I will know if Draco's being mistreated and you'll be dealt with accordingly. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Lucius sneered again, lowering his wand. "Good, now to other matters of business. I can't have you looking like that whilst courting my son."

Harry blinked. He didn't look that bad did he?

Lucius' lip curled at Harry's look of incredulity. "Next Hogsmead weekend that will be taken care of, so I'll expect to see you and Draco there. Narcissa and I will take our leave now."

Lucius stepped towards the door, but paused by Harry. Their eyes met and Lucius smiled nastily.

"I had better hear of a vast improvement in your behavior, Mr. Potter," and he walked out.

Harry stood there momentarily, shaking his head. Then he walked across the room towards the door and pushed it open slowly. He exhaled as soon as he realized Draco's parents were gone. The blond boy watched him warily as Harry stepped into the common room.

"Well, um, how did your Gryffindors take it?" Draco asked quietly, sounding genuinely interested in finding out.

Harry frowned. "They seemed to like them well enough."

Harry found himself imagining disappointment on Draco's pale face. A tense silence fell between them, which Draco broke.

"There'sonlyonebed," he said in a rush, turning a shade of pink Harry had seen on the Slytherin only once, after he had been turned into a ferret.

"I beg your pardon?"

"There's only one bed," Draco repeated, eyes never leaving Harry's.

"Does that mean you want me to sleep on the couch?" Harry asked.

Draco cried out in frustration. "No, you idiot!"

Harry was hurt. He knew he wasn't an idiot and he didn't really see the big deal. If Draco wanted him to sleep elsewhere, he would.

"God, you're thicker than I thought. We're supposed to share the bed, you fucktard."

Harry blinked and turned even pinker than Draco. He mouthed an "o". Draco stared at him for a moment and then began shaking in silent mirth. A few giggles escaped and then, at the look on Harry's face, Draco's giggles turned into peals of silvery laughter. "Did you honestly not consider that?" Draco managed between fits of giggles.

"Shut up, ferret," Harry grumbled, crossing his arms.

Draco's laughter stopped abruptly. The pale boy stood, staring expressionlessly at Harry. Without warning Draco lunged.

Not even Harry's famed seeker reactions prepared him for Draco's speed. Before Harry could blink, he was pinned to the floor under Draco, who was still gazing at him with that same expressionless stare.

"Don't call me that," Draco said quietly.

"What? Ferret?"

Draco's eyebrows knitted. Harry began chanting "ferret" under his breath, just loud enough to scratch along the edge of Draco's hearing. Determined to shut his fellow year mate up, Draco leaned down and caught Harry's lips with his own.

Harry's eyes widened, his chant getting lost somewhere on the way to his mouth. Draco pulled back, resting his face on Harry's neck. Harry's breath hitched as Draco's eyelashes blinked against his skin.

"That tickles!" he gasped, writhing.

Draco shifted his position slightly so his lips rested against the shell of Harry's ear. "What does?" Draco whispered.

"That!"

Harry felt Draco smiling. "This?" the blonde boy said teasingly, dropping kisses all over Harry's face and neck. Harry gasped again, still struggling to escape.

Draco pulled back fully, and evil glint in his eyes. He leaned over Harry's side, pressing kisses into Harry's raven feathers. Harry shuddered and then lay completely still, his entire being focused on the sensation.

"Draco!" Harry whined. Draco paused.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, stroking his fingers along the tips of Harry's feathers.

"No! I mean, yes! Draco, please!"

Draco sighed and rolled off of Harry, though he wrapped his arms and wings around the taller boy.

"No more calling me a ferret, then," Draco said firmly.

Harry smiled, still gasping, relieved that Draco had let up. Damn, but he had never known himself to be so utterly ticklish. Or that he'd find Draco touching him like that to be such a turn on. "Mmkay," he responded after he had caught his breath.

"Good," grumbled Draco, pressing another kiss to Harry's lips.

Draco let his eyes fall shut and he snuggled up closer to Harry.

Harry frowned. "We're not sleeping here, are we?"

* * *

1- these are some lines from a poem that a really like

2- Wow, every time I write that, I can't help but giggle, it sounds so dirty! XD

YAY! I'm so sorry that took so long, but writing love scenes takes so much out of me! I don't know why, but I hope it's worth it. Gimme lots of reviews and maybe the fifth chapter will get up sooner. Love you all!


	5. Eros

I am SO SO SO sorry it has taken me this long to put the fifth chapter up! Please, don't be angry! I just haven't had the same mindset as I did when this story was first started. So… hopefully it will be written with the same consistent style. (I'm not even going to pretend that school has gotten in the way. I rarely do my homework so I have lots of free time. XD )

Moondragon- Thank you much, sorry it took so long to get the next chapter up!

Dracosweetie- I'm in highschool. is paranoid I'm flattered. A favorite list? - I hope I can be more punctual if I make it onto yours.

And to everyone else, I love you! (it has been too long for me to remember everyone)

* * *

Harry woke with a start, trying to recall the dream that had woken him. No use. He sat up, blinking in the blazing sun. He rubbed his scar, which was prickling uncomfortably.

"Shit," he grumbled, knowing he must have missed all his morning classes: double potions and transfiguration. Why hadn't Ron woken him? He groaned as his scar gave a slight throb and let his head drop into his hands.

"Does it hurt you?" said a mildly worried sounding voice.

Harry's head snapped up. "Oh," he said stupidly. He remembered now. Draco. . . and the bloody Icarri.

"Oh?" said Draco, sitting next to Harry.

Harry flopped backwards onto the bed. "Have you ever woken up and not known where you were?"

Draco paused in thought. "Yeah. Once when I was at Blaise's house. I woke up, forgetting I was at his place, and when I opened my eyes expecting to see my room, it was his." Draco laughed. "It took me a few seconds to remember."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, it happens to me a lot, usually when I go home for summer hols."

"Mmm," Draco said. He looked up at the ceiling. "What is your family like?"

"They're not the sort you'd want to meet," Harry replied, getting up and stretching his wings behind him. Changing the subject he asked, "Aren't we missing class?"

"No," Draco said shortly. And then "What's wrong with your family? I did notice that you never get any letters from them. They're Muggles, right?" Draco asked disdainfully.

"Yeah, and they have the same view about wizards as you do Muggles."

"Do they?" Draco asked, sounding rather interested.

Harry snorted. "Yep. They tried keeping me from attending Hogwarts. Burned all the letters they got. We had to leave home when about five hundred of them came flying through the chimney."

Draco looked astonished. "Are they that bad?"

Harry laughed at the looked on Draco's face. "They lock all my stuff up over holiday. They're afraid I'll turn them into bats or something, even with the under age wizards' rule."

Draco frowned. "Well, you'll have to come to my house for the holidays instead."

Harry gave him a skeptical look. "Right, I can see how that would work. Me, at one of the most notorious 'ex'-Death Eater's house."

Draco looked affronted. "House?"

Harry choked back laughter. Only Draco would overlook an insult to his father over his wealth. "Mansion, castle. Whatever. My bad."

Draco turned pink. "Oh. Um, well, I'm sure we can arrange something."

Harry smiled. "Maybe."

They lapsed into a silence, which Draco broke. "You know, Crabbe and Goyle wanted to come up here."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

"To keep an eye on you or something," Draco said smiling.

Harry made a face.

"They're not so bad, but they're dumb as rocks. This one time over Christmas Hols in second year they were—"

"Going so slow you could have sworn they'd start going backwards," Harry finished for him, not really paying attention to the conversation, instead opting for pondering the snoggability of the blond sitting next to him.

Draco looked surprised. "How did you know that?"

"What? Oh! Um, well, it's a long, boring story. . ."

"Bore me," Draco said.

Harry sighed and covered his blushing face with a wing. "Well, you know how in second year Slytherin's monster was attacking people?" Draco nodded and Harry continued. "Well, me, Ron and Hermione—"

"Ron, Hermione and I," Draco corrected.

"Whatever," said Harry, smiling slightly. "Ron, Hermione and I all thought that you were the heir of Slytherin."

Draco's face split into a wide grin. "Really? Well, Harry, I am truly flattered."

Harry glared at him from over the top of his raven wings. "I wasn't finished."

"Then by all means, do continue."

"Well, we made a Polyjuice Potion and—"

"A Polyjuice Potion! Well, that explains everything!" Draco smiled sexily, and Harry gulped. Straddling Harry, he said, "I really am flattered."

Harry looked up into Draco's heavily lidded eyes and said, with some difficulty, "It wasn't a compliment."

Draco smiled again and replied "You seem not to have grasped how the Malfoy mind works, my little Slytherin minx."

Harry's blood froze. "Don't call me that."

Draco sat upright, looking worried. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"Get off, please."

Draco did no such thing. "Why?"

"Draco."

"I'm not moving until you tell me what's wrong."

Harry glared up at Draco. "It's nothing."

"Don't tell me that it's nothing, because I know that something is wrong!"

"I'm in Gryffindor, not Slytherin, okay? Just let it be."

Draco slid off of Harry. "I'm not going to believe that you're taking house rivalry so seriously. But I'm not going to push it. Just promise me that you'll tell me sometime?"

Harry sat up, and, not meeting Draco's eyes, said "When I'm good and ready."

A voice behind them made them both jump. "Well, I hope I'm not disturbing anything," said Dumbledore, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Harry and Draco jumped backwards from each other, Draco landing with a thud on the floor.

"Not at all, sir," Harry said, quickly.

"Right, well, I see you're both awake."

Draco snorted.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "I have given you the day off, as I'm sure you noticed." Harry nodded. Dumbledore continued, "So, for your time away from your studies I brought some old volumes on Icarri, no doubt you two are rather curious?"

Draco looked bored, and Harry didn't blame him. Draco had grown up knowing about this. Harry, however, was curious, so he nodded. "Well, then," said Dumbledore, waving in nearly a dozen thick texts into the room, which all landed in a neatly stacked pile on the bedside table, "I'll leave you be."

And, without another word, he left. Harry blinked in the abruptness of it all(1), but he grabbed a book off the top of the pile and opened it. He ignored Draco, who shifted and sighed loudly. A few pages into the introduction and the history of Icarri, Draco was no longer stretched out languidly on the floor, he was pacing. A chapter or two into the government system of the Icarri found Draco preening in front of the mirror, and, at the most interesting part of the book, or so Harry found it, as it dealt with love interest and families (a/n: awwww.) Draco seemed to have lost patience.

"Aren't you going to pay attention to me?"

Harry looked up, blinking cutely. "No. Draco, I'm reading."

Draco pouted, and hid his face partially behind his wings, so that only his pleading eyes were visible. Harry thought it rather made him look like a blond puffball with eyes.(2) "I could teach you more about Icarri than any old book could."

Harry sighed. "Draco."

"Harreeeee." Draco said, drawing out the length of the last syllable into a little song.

Harry gave Draco a Look, and went back to reading. "You are so spoiled."

Draco withdrew his wings from his face. "I am not!"

Harry game him another Look. "Don't even pretend."

Draco huffed.(3) "What are you reading about?"

Harry turned pink. "You know, stuff."

Draco cackled. "Yeah, stuff. But don't worry, I already know the dominant Icarri is me." (a/n:D Oh, Draco!)

Harry choked. "How can you know! This says that—"

"We're not supposed to know until a week into the 'newly formed relationship'. Yeah, I know the whole spiel. But Harry, come on. . ."

Harry glared sulkily. "What?"

"You're just the uke (a/n: submissive, bottom, the sub in the relationship, you know. . .) sort."

Harry looked offended. "I am not!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh please."

"Why don't we just wait a week and see?" Harry snapped.

"Okay," said Draco with a grin. "Whoever's right can top the other.(4)"

Harry pouted. "Fine, but how do we know?"

Draco paused. "No idea. But none of these guys," Draco said offhandedly, waving at the books, "have a bloody clue either."

"It's been too long to say?"

"You guessed it," Draco said.

"Well, then we'll find out in a week."

Draco grinned. "You mean, in a week, you'll come to grips with being the sub."

Harry didn't particularly feel like arguing, so he merely said, "Something like that, Draco."

* * *

1-This is rather out of place and disrupts the story, I know, but I didn't want Dumbledore rambling on about what Harry and Draco could read from a book. Plus, I thought that it would be funnier this way.

2- "Hide and Seek" by Matrim, chapter one, where Die is hiding behind Shinya's drum set, and he looks like "a red puffball with eyes". I nearly died laughing, so I incorporated it. :D (but why do I have the feeling that no one reading this knows or cares who Dir en grey is? ; )

3-Have you ever noticed that Draco's speech patterns and his true character are never really revealed in the books? Well, this all has been my take on how he really is, you know, when he's not trying to be nasty. I hope he doesn't seem out of character. ;

4-You know what I mean when I say top right? As in. . . be the "guy" in the situation? blush

If you don't like the length, you can suck me:D lol, just kidding. I don't feel like writing anymore, but I finally got around to updating, so I hope that will hold you for another few months! XD This fic has cobwebs all over it! Haha. Like the new sbemail. ; REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEW! And maybe the next chapter will be up sooner than you think. I have the beginning written already! So what are you waiting for?


	6. Ecchi

Oh!oh!oh! I'm updating much more quickly than I did last time I think. On this chapter. . . I had to up the rating. Just to be safe. I don't know if it actually deserves the M. . . But I'd rather be safe than booted. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. :D And… Dir en grey, really does rock. Look them up, you won't be disappointed. shameless promotion :D

Takes places roughly one week later because I am too lazy to write in the week. :D

* * *

Harry sat curled up in front of the fire, reading a particularly difficult chapter Snape had assigned his class earlier that day. 

Draco was sleeping on the floor by Harry's feet, his head pillowed on his Transfiguration book and his wand cradled to his chest like a favorite toy. Harry wondered if sleeping on the books was any more enjoyable than actually reading them; they couldn't be too comfortable. But Draco let out a tiny snore. Harry smiled slightly.

But then his eyes, as they had been doing all that week, slid over upon the calendar that was tacked on the wall next to the fireplace. A week had passed and still no sign. Harry was beginning to worry. Draco was, too, though he only showed it by being slightly more snappish than usual. Not towards Harry, of course. But the not knowing gnawed at Harry. He wasn't sure which he would be, but the thought of a dominant Draco gave him the wiggins.

But this was all swept from him mind as the most wonderful scent caught his nose. It was gentle and delicate, kind of like roses breaking through a long winter's frost. It was almost enough to drive him wild. He stood abruptly, heavy potions book falling on the slumbering Draco.

"Shit!" Draco swore, "Harry. . ." but by the look on Draco's face, Harry thought the blond boy could smell it, too.

However, what had ensnared Draco's senses was strong and saucy and quite nearly over powering. He let out a small gasp and began trembling. He tossed his head, feeling both cold and unbearably hot and just what was wrong with. . .

Realization dawned on them simultaneously. Harry sank to his knees beside Draco. His hands reached for the slightly smaller boy, seemingly of their own volition. His fingers tangled themselves into Draco's silvery locks and he pulled Draco upwards for a bruising kiss. Draco surrendered himself to the persistent lips and tongue, he barely registered that Harry had pushed him onto his back and using his weight as to keep Draco pinned. Not as if Draco was planning on skiving off any time soon. Not with what Harry was doing to him.

Harry pulled his lips away from Draco's to kiss down his neck and bare chest, teasing with his tongue and teeth and Draco clawed lightly at his back. Harry licked a wet trail down towards the waist line of Draco's pants. He had the zipper in his teeth when a knock sounded at the door.

Harry's lust filled eyes cleared slightly, along with his fogged up brain, enough that he came to himself and pushed Draco away, though Draco did attempt to cling to him. Harry got loose and all but dashed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Draco heard the lock click seconds later.

It was so cold now. Draco remained sitting, slouched over and shivering. Harry's scent was still all around him, but it was receding fast.

The knock came again.

Draco stood shakily and staggered towards the door to open it. Ron and Hermione stood upon the threshold, looking rather apprehensive.

"Is Harry there?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"He's busy," Draco snapped shortly, a bit of the old Malfoy confidence returning to him. "Come back later." Oh yes, it did feel nice to take out all this frustration.

He slammed the door, feeling immensely satisfied. But, as he turned to face the bedroom, all that left him. He stared at the Door Harry had disappeared behind. He walked up to it and laid his ear flat against the wood. No sound came from within.

"Harry," Draco whispered.

No answer, but he thought he heard ragged breathing coming just from inside the door.

"Harree. . . Please let me in. I'll be ever so good for you. . ." Draco said a wee bit louder.

Yes, Harry was definitely against the door, his breath had just hitched.

Draco realized what Harry was doing. "Oh no you don't," he growled softly. "Alohomora."

on the other side of the door

The only warning Harry had was a soft "No you don't." He jumped away from the door, zipping up his pants hurriedly. He tried to look innocently nonchalant as Draco opened the door. But another whiff of that scent almost sent him reeling. He avoided Draco's gaze.

But then Draco's soft hands ran up his back and then down his sides. "Why don't you let me take care of that, Harry," he whispered huskily.

He steered Harry towards the bed and pushed him into a sitting position. Draco knelt before him, suddenly nervous. But when Harry gasped "oh, God!" as Draco placed his head on Harry's knee, it fueled his courage. Draco's long, pale fingers traced Harry's inner thigh, then skipped upwards to his zipper. Harry's eyes closed and his took in a sharp breath at the sound of his zipper being pulled down slowly. His fingers gripped Draco's silky hair and he let out a keening whine as Draco's mouth closed around him. It was hard not to give into the urge to push into the warm, wet heat that was Draco's mouth, but Harry let his lover set the pace. Draco whimpered as Harry pulled lightly on his hair. Harry felt bad for this, but Draco's soft tongue and nimble fingers were driving him slowly crazy. He came quickly, too quickly for his liking, but he had been too worked up to last long.

He kissed Draco's nose and the blond boy wriggled like a pleased puppy. Harry flopped backwards onto the bed, pulling Draco with him. Draco mewled softly as Harry traced his long nails softly up Draco's sides and behind his ears.

For Harry, that overpowering smell had subsided, though it still lingered pleasantly around him. However, Draco still seemed to be affected and restless. Harry laughed softly and placed his lips on Draco's ear.

"Not yet, Draco," he said.

Draco groaned and pushed his aching need against Harry's thigh. Harry smiled against Draco's ear. "Patience."

Draco let out a little frustrated sob. "Oh, shh. Shhh, Draco, don't cry. If we play anymore, I'll be late for. . . remedial potions," Harry said with a twinge of guilt.

"Fuck Snape," Draco whined.

"You'd pitch a fit if I did," Harry pointed out.

Draco pouted and clutched Harry as the latter tried to get up.

"Draco. . ." Harry growled.

Draco let go and buried himself under the covers and wouldn't talk to Harry again as he got ready to head down towards the dungeons.

"Right, well, I'll see you later, then."

Draco didn't say anything, so Harry continued. "Oh, and Draco? Be ready for me."

Still no response. Harry smirked slightly, though his eyes flashed. He left.

* * *

YAY! Now what? I'm running out of ideas. . . Please let me know what you think should happen next. Please? 


	7. Eclat

OMG! Have you seen the PoA trailer? AGH! Tom Felton is so HOT! XB June 4th! June 4th! Um, yay! for reviews! Aye love you brat princess and the zedmeister. More please(from everyone!)? This chapter is going to suck because all it's going to be is tying up some of the loose threads I began in earlier chapters. But read it anyways, because you'll be lost if you don't, ne. I'll try and keep it interesting.

Éclat /ā–΄klä/ _n._ 1. dazzling effect; brilliance 2. ostentatious display; PUBLICITY

* * *

Draco's skin was flushed and his wings lay limp beside him as Harry entered the bedroom. Draco moaned. Harry hurried over to him and pressed warm kisses on Draco's eyelids and along his jaw line. Draco sighed in contentment. Harry smiled and kissed Draco's check once before picking the smaller boy up.

Draco protested at this, but only slightly. As soon as Harry wrapped him up in his wings and nuzzled him softly, Draco quieted.

Harry carried Draco into the bathroom and set him down on the clean marble counter. Draco pouted at the loss of contact, but he remained silently where he was, watching Harry fiddle with the knobs and faucets of the prefect-sized tub.

Harry returned to where was Draco was sitting none too patiently on the counter and placed a soft kiss on the corner of the blonde's mouth. Draco let his eyes slide shut as Harry began to work at his belt buckle. He raised his hips slightly to help Harry out. He hissed as his bare skin came in contact with the cold marble. Draco opened his eyes again just as Harry was shedding his own garb. Draco smiled appreciatively. Harry then reached for his again and Draco purred as their flesh came in contact with each other's.

They settled into the steaming water with sighs and gasps. Draco hissed again, this time as Harry reached down through the water to grip him firmly. Harry waited for Draco to shift back against him in a silent plea before beginning to stroke him.

(1)

Draco and Harry were curled up together in the cooling water, all damp limbs and wings. Draco shifted, becoming bored with just cuddling. Harry sat up, his chest rising over the dissipating bubbles.

"It's Hogsmead weekend coming up, right?"

Draco sat up, too, wrapping his arms around Harry. "Yeah. Why?"

Harry made a face. "It means your father's coming up to the castle."

"Mmm," Draco said. Then he colored. "Oh no. . ." he moaned.

"What?"

Draco shivered. "My father's going to be furious when he finds out I'm the submissive Icarri."

Harry's lips formed an "o". "Well, he was furious with me earlier, he can be furious with me again."

"Not just with you, with me," he lamented with a definite whine in his voice. Harry felt anger bubble up within him.

"You are not going to be ashamed of being mine, Draco," he said firmly.

Draco lifted his head to stare at Harry, cheeks pink. "Sorry."

Harry sighed and stood, saying nothing, though pulling Draco with him. He toweled them both off with a large fluffy towel and led Draco out into the bedroom.

They were silent as they tromped into the room, trailing water across the carpet, and as they clambered under the covers that were still cool. Harry lay on his side, not facing Draco.

Miserable, Draco wriggled closer to Harry and wrapped an arm around the taller boy's torso, his other hand rested upon the curve of one of Harry's wings.

After a few minutes, when Draco thought that Harry was surely asleep he muttered "I'm not ashamed," under his breath.

Harry turned around, quite wide awake. He examined Draco's face by what feeble light the moon offered. He was blushing again.

"It's my father," Draco said.

Harry was silent.

"He's been hounding me about it ever since I could understand speech."

The moonlight cast across Harry's face did not fall over his eyes. "He cares about you.(2) He'll understand."

Draco groaned. "He'll give you so much grief over it."

Harry's lips twitched. "There's nothing you can do about this, Draco. I'll take it as it comes. We'll pull through."

Draco shifted, obviously wanting to change the subject subtly. "What would your parents say?"

"I don't know," Harry said shortly.

"Sorry."

Harry didn't reply. Draco felt a funny hollow feeling in his stomach and his heart gave a little flop. "Please, talk to me, Harry."

Harry let his eyes fall shut as Draco made his plea. "I will. I know I can trust you. But. . ."

"It's fine, just promise you will," Draco murmured, resting his fingers over Harry's heart.

Harry nodded. "How come you're so calm and understanding and for me this is so confusing?"

Draco smiled. "It's hard for me, too! Don't turn this into a pity party just because you're a sodding Gryffindor with a few problems." Then, the smile receding from his face, he continued, "But in my role in this relationship, I have to care for you, be there for you. It makes me happy in a way I can't explain to see you smile. It hurts me because it hurts you."

Harry smiled softly. "Soon. I want us to sit down and answer each other's questions. Soon, but not yet."

Draco made a noise of assent, and they both drifted off into an easy sleep.

Harry opened his eyes to late morning sunlight. Shielding his eyes, he smiled fondly at Draco's silhouette. Draco stepped away from the big bay window towards Harry as soon as he saw that Harry was awake and "happy to see him".

Draco's voice carried a grin as he said, "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

"You're dressed!" Harry whined with a not so exaggerated pout.

Draco laughed. "You want me to walk around naked with my parents in the adjoining room?"

Harry swore colorfully and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He hurriedly pulled on a pair of old jeans and an oversized t-shirt under his Hogwarts robes. He ran a wet comb through his hair and stepped outside the bedroom. Draco sat down on the couch next to his mother while Harry, whose eyes were fixed on the elder Mr. Malfoy, remained standing. Lucius was lounging against the wall, looking infuriatingly at home, long fingers caressing the head of his gilded walking staff.

"Mr. Potter, you and I are going to start heading for Hogsmead as Narcissa would like to discuss something privately with Draco. They will come along shortly."

Harry nodded, faking nonchalance, and stuck his hand in the pocket of his robes to grasp the familiar wood of his wand for comfort. But the long bit of wood was not there. Frightened at first, he glanced up at Mr. Malfoy, who was pocketing it. Furious, and wondering how Lucius had managed such a thing without Harry even noticing, Harry followed the older man out the door and held his tongue until they were crossing the grounds.

Mr. Malfoy spoke first before Harry could question about his wand. "Now about my son—"

"Give me back my wand!" Harry demanded, cutting the blond off.

"It will be returned to you after our visit to Hogsmead," Lucius sneered. "Now about Draco—"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Like hell! I'm not going any where until you give it back!"

Lucius, too, had stopped, and had turned around slightly to give Harry the Eye. "We can go about this the easy way, Mr. Potter. I'm just ensuring that your Gryffindor temper doesn't get the best of you whilst we're discussing things."

"Give it back," Harry continued stubbornly. "Where's my guarantee that you won't attempt to blast me to a little smear on the pavement of Hogsmead 'whilst we're discussing things'?"

To Harry's surprise, Lucius laughed. Harry noticed with some consternation that he sounded a great deal like his son. And that Harry found himself really being attracted to long hair. Pity Draco's hair wasn't—

Harry's disturbing train of thought was snuffed out as Mr. Malfoy tossed Harry his wand and Harry's seeker training made him catch it without really thinking.

Alarmed, he looked up at Lucius, who was still smiling. "Fine, have it your way, but put one toe out of line and there will be nothing stopping me from performing the aforementioned curse."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "You sounded like Professor Snape when you said that."

Lucius said nothing but drew himself up indignantly. A few moments of awkward silence passed before he said tersely, "Shall we resume our walk then?"

Harry didn't reply, but fell into step next to Lucius.

"As I was saying about my son, before you continually interrupted me. . ."

"What about him?" Harry asked with no slight trepidation.

Lucius glared at Harry from out of the corner of his eye. "Luckily enough for you, he has not had any further complaints."

Harry hid a smile behind a small cough and said, "We've been tolerating each other.

Mr. Malfoy sneered. "And more than that, I'd wager, since you both seem so comfortable with your separate roles as Icarri."

Harry turned scarlet, and her thought he saw Lucius smirk.

"Right, well, I hope he continues to be satisfied with you. Now, about where you'll be staying for the holidays. . ."

Harry stared at Mr. Malfoy incredulously. "You don't seriously want me to spend them at your place, do you?"

"Well, you certainly can't continue on with those pathetic Muggles as you have been. However, there are some, ah, complications, that would arise with you staying at the manor. There is a certain someone. . ."

"You mean Voldemort."

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "Do not speak his name," he snapped.

"'Fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself'. I'm calling him Voldemort."

Harry was worried for a moment that this had been the entirely wrong thing to say; Lucius's eyes flashed and his mouth had gone as thin as Professor McGonagall's when she was taking house points. But as Harry blinked all traces of anger had vanished from the older man's face, and Harry wondered if it had ever been there in the first place.

"Be that as it may. . ." Lucius cleared his throat. "There are ways to get around that. Have you ever been placed under a Glamorie, Mr. Potter?" As Harry shook his head, Mr. Malfoy continued. "Draco often has friends over for the summer and winter breaks. You could be charmed to appear as a housemate of Draco's."

"Oh."

By now, they had reached Hogsmead.3 Lucius steered him into a shop that Harry had never seen before; a dark, shady looking boutique. The inside was dustlessly pristine, though the floor was covered in plush black carpet that Harry could feel through his sneakers and the walls were a shade of burgundy so deep that the color could only be seen in the most direct of light.

A young woman in magnificent robes and shawls of plum hurried forward and greeted Lucius warmly. Harry was mildly confused; she didn't exactly seem the sort of person that Lucius would befriend with smiling eyes and flowers plaited into her dark hair. She had a slight accent, but one which Harry could not quite place. She had Lucius sit while another dark haired girl a few years younger placed a steaming cup of tea in front of him before they both marched Harry towards the back of the store, cooing all the while over his wings.

Harry made an indignant noise as they snipped his painstakingly charmed shirt right off him. They then hurried forwards with neatly folded, precharmed shirts that came on and off easily, all in greens and blacks and comfortably snug around his chest with enough fluidity for his wings to move more than easily.

They brought several other shirts forward, which were white, with ruffs spilling down the front and sleeves. They also had him try on several boxy dress jackets with many pockets and zippers again with plenty of room for his wings. Harry sighed as they brought forward several stacks of trousers and about a dozen shoeboxes. He slid in and out of the tailored dress pants, jeans and even one tight leather pair before they were satisfied, along with several pairs of boots, including a pair with a decorate silver toe upon the outside and a black pair that laced all the way up to mid thigh.

Finally the girls stuffed him into an outfit and paraded him like a show dog in front of the entire Malfoy family as Narcissa and Draco had finally arrived. Lucius looked approving, and then accompanied the girls to the counter. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Mr. Malfoy placed a large bag of gold on the counter and collected Harry's bags. Draco distracted him by rattling on about the fine thread quality in his shirt while his mother gossiped with the girls.

Exhausted, and pondering on how much he loathed shopping, Harry followed the Malfoys out into the bright late after noon sunlight and long shadows of Hogsmead, longing to be alone with Draco in their lofty tower room.

* * *

I LOVE MY BETA. .

To anyone who has live/dead journals, you may add me as a friend and ask me to add you as a friend if you like, my username is (surprise surprise) crystalomnia.

Oh ja! Oh ja! Oh ja! Es ist fertig, ja! Finished! Finished! Finished! Makes me want to dance like a crazy person. Because you see, I have had this bloody thing finished since BEFORE LAST VALENTINE'S DAY! And I have finally gotten my arse around to typing it up! And guess what! I have 1/2 of chapter 8 finished, and I have the first chapter of Ordercest written (though it's not very long, just a taste) and the first 2 chapters of a Harry/Lucius that I am calling Delerium. Just have to get those typed as well. Can I do it? Yes I can!

1 Cut for my sanity.

2 I hate, hate, HATE stories where Herr Malfoy is an awful, abusive/neglecting/evil father. Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, he hates Muggles and Mudbloods, and he's very vain. BUT he is a loving husband and father. Narcissa and Draco are not Muggles, Muggleborns, or House Elves. They are pureblood wizards, a standard that Herr Malfoy respects. Yeah, he's strict, but he's that kind of person. Harry sees this. Because you see, Harry is a lot more intelligent than many fanfiction writers out there, I'm telling you.

3 Who has seen Labyrinth? You know the little dwarf, Hoggle, who always ends up with his name mispronounced? The girl called him Hogwart! I had never seen it before this weekend. By the gods, David Bowie is hot!


	8. End

I am so sorry. This story is not dead, as you see. It has been MONTHS, no. . . almost a YEAR seen I've updated this story, so I apologize profusely. So, onto chapter eight.

* * *

Harry lounged about in some of his new clothes, a pair of black pinstriped pants and an unbuttoned green shirt that matched his eyes. He marveled at how his wings felt not a bit constricted by the silky fabric. He flexed them upwards, smiling, and then flapped them a bit, sending some loose papers scuttling across the floor. Draco was still in the Great Hall, finishing up his dinner and catching up with his Slytherin friends. He yawned and idly wondered if there was anything else he could do to keep him entertained. He had settled in front of the fire place, and was contentedly watching the flames pop and crackle when Draco ambled in.

"You look nice in Slytherin colors," he purred sexily, sauntering up to where Harry was and kneeling.

Harry frowned and turned away, which made Draco's sexy smile vanish. "Honestly, Harry," Draco said with more than a little exasperation, "you take house rivalry far too seriously."

Harry turned back over, glowering. "That's not it," he snapped.

Draco looked abashed. "Of course it isn't," he murmured. He remained kneeling for a bit, face flushed and looking upset, before standing.

Harry sighed. "You're pissed."

"I wish you would tell me what the hell is wrong," he stated simply. "I am pissed. I. . . care about you, you know. And I haven't kept anything from you." He spun around, looking thoroughly displeased. "What is it that you're letting get in the way of us?"

Harry pulled his wand out from his back pocket and ran his fingers up its length. He looked at Draco tiredly and sat up. "Come here," he said quietly.

Draco settled himself in Harry's arms, listening to Harry take a few deep breaths. "The sorting hat. . . wanted to put me in Slytherin."

Draco said nothing.

"But. . . I remember having met you just before the sorting and. . . Well, please don't take offense, but--"

"You didn't like me at the time. Com on, Harry. I don't have any delusions about how we felt about each other before this year."

Harry smiled weakly. "Well, then I'll tell you up front. I pleaded with the hat 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin'. The hat told me that Slytherin could help me on my way to greatness. But I had been told that there wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."

Now Draco did scoff. "/What? Who the hell told you that nonsense?"

Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair, frowning. "It's not important. What is important is that the hat listened to me and I was sorted into Gryffindor instead."

"Well, I still don't see what the problem is. I mean, sure, I've never heard of anyone convincing the hat it shouldn't be in a particular house, but that still doesn't explain why you tense up every time I mention Slytherin," Draco said petulantly, bottom lip sticking out just slightly, begging to be kissed. Harry resisted the temptation(1).

"You're right, that's not it. Well, not completely."

Draco waited for Harry to elaborate.

"I'm sure you already know this. . . but Voldemort was in Slytherin."

Draco sighed in exasperation. "I may have told you this before, Harry, but he's no reflection on you."

"Isn't he?" Harry snapped. He wished he hadn't when he saw the hurt look on Draco's face. Sighing, he continued, "Sorry, but you know that I'm a Parslemouth because of him. When his curse hit me. . . instead of dying, I acquired a bit of his power."

"It's not surprising," Draco said, kissing Harry's cheek softly. Harry shivered at the velvety soft feel of Draco's cool lips against his flushed skin. "To have survived the Killing Curse. . . well, I think it's obvious that you wouldn't have come away from that with just a scar."

Harry smiled again, cuddling Draco closer to his chest. "I'm not finished, love. The day that you met me. . . was the same day I got my wand." Harry was still holding the slender bit of wood in his right hand. "Mr. Ollivander. . . he told me that he's never forgotten a single wand he's ever sold." Harry sighed deeply. Here they were, at the heart of the matter. There was no turning back. Only. . . he had never told /anyone/ this. He thought it fitting that his lover would be the first to know. "Dumbledore's phoenix, Faux, gave up two feathers to be put into wands. One of them is in here," he said, voice shaking slightly. Draco's long pale fingers touched his wand gently, fingers curling around Harry's. "And the other one . . . was put into the wand that gave me this," he finished with a whisper, fingering his scar.

Draco was still and quiet for a long moment, their hands still twined around Harry's wand. He shifted until he was straddling the darker boy and cupped Harry's face in his hands. "Oh, Harry," was all he said.

It was all he needed to, really. Harry allowed himself to be comforted by the feel and smell of Draco pressed firmly against him and let out a shaky breath, one that he hadn't realized he had been holding.

He must have fallen asleep in Draco's arms, because when he next opened his eyes, they were in bed together, tangled in a mass of soft feathers and pale flesh. He watched Draco as he slept, admiring the pale boy's sharp features. It was a face he was becoming rather fond of. He admired the dark smear of black that Draco's eyelashes made against his porcelain skin and the way the corners of his pink lips turned down slightly, still pouting in whatever dream it was he was having.

Harry thought idly about how beautiful they must look together, Draco's light form to Harry's dark one. Not that Harry really considered himself to be all that attractive, but Draco never complained, always made him feel wanted and that was certainly a self-esteem booster. Funny how he never thought Draco to be the one to make him feel like he did.

They had a lot ahead of them. Harry wasn't sure he was ready for it, wasn't even sure how he really felt about the whole thing. But, thinking about his past occurrences at school, about the rows he had gotten into his friends over something or another each year, he realized that this ordeal was really quite different than all the others. /This/ time he had the support of all his friends, the headmaster, Snape, of all people, and most surprisingly. . . the Malfoys.

He sighed again, content for the moment, still admiring Draco's still clothed body beside his. He would never say that Draco looked like an angel. He did, really, but Harry knew better than to fall for his large blue eyes and soft exterior. Draco was more of an incubus, and would no doubt be pleased by Harry saying so.

For a fleeting moment, Harry wondered what Draco saw when he looked at Harry through those blue eyes. But as he listened to Draco's heartbeat next to his own, he decided that it didn't really matter.

* * *

1 Sorry guys, I know how much you were looking forward to some boy on boy action.

Well, that's it. No major lemons, no MPreg, just some nice fluffy WAFF to curl up to. I may continue it at some later date, I might forget it about it completely. If any of you want, if any of you are still even reading this, you can go ahead and continue it, but please link back to me rather than posting my chapters on your own site and please send me a link so I can read it. This has been my most reviewed and most favorited story, and I would like to thank all of you who took the time to do so.

I realize now how out of character Harry and Draco have been in this story and how much my writing style has changed since I started this story. I thank all of you who have put up with me, who have reviewed and have added me as a favorite author or have added this story to their favorites.

Hugs all around!


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